


Curiosity may be double-edged sword, but wounds can heal.

by Whambamthanksbatfam



Series: Lost in the Past, Found in the Future? [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Child Abuse, Damian Wayne-centric, Eventual Happy Ending, Family Drama, Father-Son Relationship, Fights, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Injury, Rebellion, The Batfam equivalent of Brotherly Bonding, Trauma, Violence, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-04-26
Packaged: 2019-04-28 02:38:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14439672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whambamthanksbatfam/pseuds/Whambamthanksbatfam
Summary: They oldest 3 batboys are curious about Damian. What they find hurts and surprises both parties.





	Curiosity may be double-edged sword, but wounds can heal.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!  
> This is the first in a series of fics about Damian's coming to Gotham.

Ever since Damian joined the Bat Family and came to Gotham, his brothers have been trying to figure the boy out. Who was Damian Wayne? Well sure, he was the grandson of Ra’s al Ghul and son of the Batman. But what was his personality? What did he like? This is what they wanted to know. They also wanted cute baby pictures, but they figured that was bit much to ask of Bruce and were too scared of Talia to ask her.

 

So, they went to his room. Dick went in the doorway first. “Little D?” He looked in the room. He saw Alfred the cat lounging on the bed, Titus asleep in the corner, and his canary in its cage. Wait, when did Damian get a bird? They’d have to ask Alfred. They figured the boy wasn’t training since he always took his pets with him, so he must’ve been in the barn with Batcow. 

 

Dick waved them into the room. The first thing they notice when they walked in was the starkness of the room. It was pretty bare, and the things he did have out were perfectly in place. They began to rifle through his things. The drawers were just as organized as the exterior of the room. “Like father, like son,” Tim snickered as he went through Damian’s closet.

 

“Guys look,” Dick exclaimed. In his hand were a few flash drives. 

“Let’s go watch them in the cave,” Tim suggested. Dick and Jason agreed figuring they were home videos or baby pictures or something.

 

They plugged the first drive in then sat back to watch. When the screen changed from black there was a picture of Damian in fighting stance, then another much taller assassin came into the screen. Damian looked about six or seven at the time. Damian and the man began to spar. The taller of the two was winning at first. He had gotten several good hits, and Damian was bleeding. He wiped the crimson that was dripping from his mouth and attacked again. A minute later, the man had him pinned down again, but Damian grabbed a knife from one of his pockets and drove it into the man’s neck. He then proceeded to pull the knife down the man’s neck. When he finished he kicked the man off him, and stood up. Damian was covered in blood. Then Ra’s came onto the screen and Damian bowed. He told the boy that he did adequately then sent a kick the boy’s way. Damian dodged but wasn’t fast enough to dodge the subsequent kick. Then Ra’s told him he needed to be faster, and dismissed him. 

 

Tim was retching in the nearby trash can while Dick stared at the now black screen in shock and Jason held his hand, trembling. Dick took the drive out. “What are you all doing?” Damian appeared behind them. “Those flash drives are mine. Were you in my room?” They all started at him. Shocked that a little kid could do such things. “You watched one, didn’t you? Imbeciles, hand me the drives.” Damian put his hand out, but Dick wouldn’t give him the drives.

“Damian, why do you have these,” Dick whispered.

“Why does that matter?”

“Did you kill every opponent you ever faced?”

“Most, why?”

“And you’ve no regret?”

“I did not have the same upbringing as you three. You can’t fathom the intensity of my training, so don’t try.”

“What’re you boys doing?” Bruce walked in.

“They stole my flash drives,” Damian said.

“Bruce,” Tim said. “He killed people. He stabbed a man in the throat and cut him open.”

“Tim,” Dick warned.

“No, Dick. He’s sick.”

“I’m quite well, Drake,” Damian smirked.

“No like, mentally. You’re as bad as the Joker.”

“Take it back, Drake.” 

“Or what,” Tim sneered.

“Or you will feel my wrath.”

“You gonna cut me open and tear my insides out too?” Damian drew his sword.

“If you want me to, I’ll oblige.”

“Tim,” Dick said firmly while standing up to get in between him and Damian. “Apologize.”

“No.”

“I don’t care about Drake’s opinion of me. I’m held in high regard in the league.”

“We know, Damian, but what Tim said is rude, and he is going to apologize.”

“No I’m not.” Dick looked to Bruce for help, but Bruce didn’t know what to do in all honesty.

“Tim, apologize to your brother.”

“I’m not apologizing to some sociopath.” That’s when Damian got past Dick and pointed the tip of his sword inches away from Tim’s neck.

“I’m no sociopath, Drake, so I suggest you rescind your comment.” Tim swallowed. 

“Damian,” Bruce growled. 

“What’s wrong? Scared the sociopath is going to kill your sweet little Baby Bird?” Bruce didn’t answer and Damian laughed. He honest to God laughed. They had never heard him laugh before. It was an evil laugh. This laugh was taught to him by the demon himself. “Don’t you all realize that if I was going to, I could have and would have.” Damian scoffed, and sheathed his sword.

“Tim, apologize, now,” Bruce said firmly.

“Fine. I’m sorry.”

“You all have no right to go into my things,” Damian said. “I want my flash drives back now.”

“I’m going to need to review them first, Damian.”

“Father, I am sure you know enough of the league’s methods.”

“I’ll give them back to you when I’m done.”

“Fine. Grayson, why were you all in my things in the first place?” Dick blushed.

“We wanted to learn more about you.”

“Any you did not ask me because?”

“Look, we’re sorry,” Jason said. “How about we take you out for ice cream, and ask you what we want to know?”

“Todd, I am not a child who can be seduced by frozen cow fat. You may take me to get some, but I will not promise an answering of questions since you invaded my privacy.” Damian began to walk up the stairs. They assumed he expected them to follow, so they scurried along with him.

… 

“Okay, Baby bat. You have your ice cream, so I’ll ask my first question: what is your favorite color?” Jason figured that if he started easily, the boy would be more willing to answer serious questions. Damian looked at Jason for a minute, his legs swinging above the floor, the one thing that made them aware that he was still in fact a child. 

“I don’t have one.”

“You know your colors, right?”

“Of course, Todd. I do college level courses, you know.”

“My turn,” Dick squealed in delight, “Who is your best friend?”

“Friends are childish endeavors.”

“So you don’t have any,” Tim chuckled. He received a hard kick to the shin from Dick for that one.

“I don’t need any, and if I wanted some, I could get them.”

“Sure, my turn. Why hasn’t Bruce made you Robin yet?”

“My aspirations are not to become Robin. I do not wish the life of vigilantism in capes and bright colored leotards.”

“Yeah right.”

“I don’t believe Father trusts me quite yet, either, but that is fine. I am a spy for my grandfather anyway.” The older boys nearly choked on their ice cream.

“What?”

“You really think I want to be here? He wishes it.”

“You’re a spy?”

“Most likely, but Father probably knows that.”

“How can you not know whether on not you’re a spy,” Tim continued.

“Grandfather doesn’t tell me everything. I could ask Mother, she is transparent with me, but I don’t really care.”

“Okay, Demon brat. Tell me this, what’s your body count?”

“I don’t know. What is yours?”

“Mine’s around 400. How could you not know?”

“Too many to count.” 

“Dami, Dami,” Dick yelled incessantly. Damian rolled his eyes. 

“Yes, Grayson?”

“Do you wanna go to a movie?”

“No.”

“What do you do for fun?”

“Train.”

“That’s not fun.”

“That is subjective.”

“What do you do when you’re bored?”

“I do not get bored. Excuse me for a minute.” Damian got up, and went outside. His brother’s followed him curiously, but regretted it immediately. They walked out the parlor to find Damian slitting a man’s throat behind the establishment.

“Damian,” Dick scolded. “What have you done? Come here.”

“I cannot yet. I have not finished the task.” Damian picked one of the man’s hands, cut it off, then put it in a bag he pulled out of his pocket. Tim was frozen with his hands over his mouth, Jason was intrigued, and Dick was mad. 

“Now,” he growled. He walked up to Damian and snatched the boy. “We. Don’t. Kill.”

“You don’t. Now let me finish my mission.”

“You just killed an innocent man.”

“No I didn’t. He’s league property. Mother texted for me to dispose of him. He was no longer needed.”

“I don’t care what Talia told you, Damian.” Dick took the bag with the hand in it and threw it by the corpse. 

“Put me down,” Damian screamed. He kicked Dick in the groin and ran. Jason ran after him.

“Get back here, Demon.” They were jumping from rooftop to rooftop now. 

“Leave me be, Todd.” Damian continued to run. Jason pulled out his gun and shot the boy in the arm, but he still didn’t stop running. Damian pulled the bullet out of his arm and threw it as he ran. That freaked Jason out. 

 

Jason caught up to Damian because he was much bigger than the boy. “Damian, stop.” Damian must have been tired, because he stopped. 

“I have to finish my mission.” Jason now realized that Damian still had the man’s hand. 

“No you don’t.”

“I’ll get in trouble if I don’t,” Damian’s voice went a bit higher than his usual tone.

“What do you mean?” Damian pointed to the helicopter a few buildings off. Then Talia al Ghul appeared out of nowhere. 

“Boys,” she greeted coldly. “Damian, you failed.”

“I am sorry I was not adequate mother.”

“Give it to me.” He gave her the bagged hand. Then she gave him a hard slap in the face, and left. Jason jogged to Damian’s side, but the boy was already up again.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Jason said somberly. He didn’t know that would have happened. He would have let the boy finish.

“Leave me be, Todd. I do not need your sympathy.” Damian began to walk back to where they came from. He could tell the boy’s arm pained him, but Damian didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry for shooting you.”

“I hold no grudge, but you have to get me more frozen cow fat for atonement.”

“Sure,” Jason chuckled.

… 

“What happened,” Bruce growled when he saw his boys come back.

“Damian happened,” Tim said. Bruce looked at Damian.

“Mother had a mission for me, but I failed thanks to Todd.”

“He killed a man, Bruce,” Dick said. Bruce looked back to Damian.

“I had to complete the mission, Father.”

“And your mission was to kill a man?”

“He was league property, and Mother tasked me with taking care of him.”

“You said you failed.”

“I did not bring back proof of his death in time because Todd shot me.” Damian glared at Jason.

“You deserved it.”

“I did not.”

“You shouldn’t have killed that man, Damian. I reviewed your videos too. I think we need to review some options… for help.”

“So now you see his sociopathic tendencies,” Tim chimed in.

“I am no sociopath and I am not in need of a counselor. I am in prime health, both physically and mentally.”

“And emotionally?”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Yes it is.” Damian was about to answer when his phone rang.

“Hello?... Yes, Mother…. I apologize…. I’ll do better…. Very well.” Damian hung up the phone and sighed.

“What did she say,” Bruce questioned. 

“I have some business in another part of Gotham, please excuse me.”

“Damian, where are you going?”

“To receive my punishment, Father. You know league protocol, what else did you think?” Bruce did know it, and he was not about to let his son get whipped.

“You’re not going.”

“But I am. I am going to take my punishment, and return later.”

“I’m not letting you get whipped.” Bruce grabbed Damian by his uninjured arm.

“I deserve it.”

“No you don’t.”

“So I deserve a bullet wound, but not a whipping? That is a double standard, Father.”

“No it’s not. What Jason did was different.”

“Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant. I failed, so I need a consequence. I will do better next time to avoid a more severe one. Let me go. You know it will be worse for me if I don’t.” Bruce let him go.

“Come straight back.” Damian rolled his eyes, and left.

“We can’t let her do that,” Dick exclaimed.

“He’s right, Dick. So, until he cuts ties with the league, we have to accept it.” Dick got on his bike and left until he cooled off. Jason and Tim went to the kitchen, most likely to seek the comfort of their grandfather.

… 

Damian came back a few hours later. He was beaten bloody. His father was already gone for patrol, so he went to the infirmary to patch himself up. Wrapping his arm and patching up the gash on his abdomen were easy enough, but the back was another deal. It hurt to twist, and that combined with the antiseptic was always loathsome. So, Damian procrastinated as long as he could. He took a shower, cleaned up his training materials, fed Batcow, and then it was time. 

 

The twist was painful. It burned hotter than fire. Damian didn’t shed one tear, though. He was strong, he would not be overcome by injury. That was for weak people, not heir to the demon. He got the first cut pretty easily after that. It was excruciating to twist more for the one on the other side of his back, but it had to be done. The last patch was the hardest. It lined his spine. Damian took a deep breath, and began to turn, before he was interrupted. “Need some help?” Tim was there. Damian knew Tim had been there, but he didn’t bother acknowledging the boy.

“No.” Tim looked concerned now.

“Let me help, Damian.”

“I am fine, Drake.” Tim came over and took the antiseptic from Damian. The boy conceded and turned around.

“It’s okay to have help, you know.” Tim applied the antiseptic. Damian tensed up, but he did not wince or whimper. 

“I did not need help.” Tim rolled his eyes, knowing the boy couldn’t see them. 

“Sorry again, about earlier.” Tim didn’t mean to be so callous. He was just in shock from the video.

“As I said before, I don’t care what you think, Drake.” Tim began to bandage Damian’s back.

“I know, but I’m still sorry.” 

“Fine, I forgive you, Drake. Are you happy now?” Tim finished the bandages.

“Sure,” he chuckled. Damian stood up slowly. “Do you need any help getting to your room? I don't want you to break your stitches.” Damian contemplated the question for a second before shaking his head. Tim could tell the boy was in pain. If not by his stoic face, then by the severity of his wounds. 

“I will be fine to go by myself,” Damian stated, then he began to walk at normal speed. That had to hurt, a lot.

“Will you indulge me?” Tim really wanted to help the boy. 

“By?” Damian turned around and smirked.

“Taking some pain meds and letting me carry you?” 

“Algology is not practiced in the league. You may carry me, through.” Damian stood still as Tim gingerly picked him up, and carried him up the stairs to his room. On their way Dick was walking through the hallway. 

“You okay, Little D?”

“Don’t call me that and I am perfectly fine. I am simply indulging Drake and his mother henning tendencies. He must have learned them from you.” Dick laughed.

“Wanna read a book?” Damian wasn’t a kid who needed to be read bedtime stories, but Dick liked reading to him every once in awhile and Damian didn’t complain. Dick followed Tim and Damian into the latter’s room. Tim sat Damian on the bed gently, and left. Dick stayed.

“Fine. If you insist.” Why couldn’t Damian ever just say yes? Dick grabbed the book he was currently reading and sat on the bed with Damian. Dick read with Damian until the boy fell asleep.

“Good night, Little D,” he whispered as he covered the boy up, and left the room.

… 

Damian was up at the crack of dawn training. The pain was almost unbearable. He bit his tongue so hard it bled, but he kept going. “Damian,” Bruce said as he came into the cave after a 2 hour nap to see Damian training. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine, Father. See?” Damian stabbed the practice dummy. 

“Let me check you over.”

“Drake already did.” That surprised Bruce. Damian let Tim help? Bruce stil wanted to see the bruises.

“I still want to see.” Damian stopped training and hung his sword back before walking back to Bruce. Bruce gestured for him to go sit on a cot in the infirmary, so Damian obeyed. Bruce lifted the shirt carefully, not wanting to pull on anything. He tried to get the rest of the shirt off, but Damian wouldn’t let him. Bruce let it go, and looked at what he could see. The bruising was extensive, and Damian’s gash was worrisome at best. He touched the wounds softly, but pulled away when he saw Damian tense. Bruce could see that Damian’s body also had many old scars. Some of them looked reopened. Dang it, Talia, Bruce thought. “Do you want some pain meds?”

“No, Father. As I told Drake yesterday, algology is not practiced in the league.”

“You’re not with the league right now, Damian. You can have some.”

“No thank you.” The boy had to be in a terrible amount of pain. Why wouldn’t he let Bruce ease it? Bruce decided to ignore Damian’s response and went to get a syringe. He filled the syringe with morphine, and noticed the boy walking away. 

“Damian, come here.”

“I don’t want any, Father.”

“Damian, I know that your injuries have to hurt immensely. The morphine will help.”

“I do not need chemical dependency, Father. I can take it.”

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Let me be.”

“No, come here.” Damian went towards Bruce. He didn’t want to, but obedience had been ingrained into him at an early age. Bruce held the syringe up.

“Father, please.” Damian sounded distressed now. Was he scared of needles?

“It’s okay, son.” Damian scooted away.

“Father,” Damian sounded like he was near tears. Bruce set the syringe down.

“Why don’t you want it?”

“I have to be ready.” He stood up.

“For what?”

“For anything that Grandfather or Mother may send. I cannot fight my best under the influence of drugs.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Damian still looked unsure. “Here, I’ll give you the morphine and you can go rest. I’ll stay with you the whole time, okay?”

“Okay,” Damian said. His voice was smaller than Bruce had ever heard it. All the condescension and anger stripped from his tone. Damian came back and sat on the cot. Bruce gave Damian the morphine, then took the boy upstairs into his room. Damian was sleep within minutes. Bruce made sure to give him a good dose, he didn’t think the boy slept enough. Bruce could have left, but he didn't. He sat right by the boy. He didn’t move again until Damian had woken up.


End file.
